


Evaluation

by redredribbons



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Obliviousness, Pre-Relationship, bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redredribbons/pseuds/redredribbons
Summary: Sephiroth and Zack have been tasked with recruiting additional SOLDIERs from the infantry ranks. There aren’t many promising options, but one unusual candidate stands out.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 13
Kudos: 205
Collections: FF7 Secret Santa 2019





	Evaluation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cruellae (tinkabelladk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkabelladk/gifts).



> Prompt was for an AU where Cloud is of legal age and catches Sephiroth’s attention, but Sephiroth doesn’t know how to human.
> 
> So, this is a very canon-divergent AU where the Nibelheim incident (and lots of other things) never happened and the war with Wutai is dragging on.

Sephiroth wasn’t thrilled to be back in Midgar. Shinra’s board had ordered it— their orders were for the good of Shinra, and Sephiroth would obey them regardless of his personal feelings— but leaving the Wutai front in Commander Rhapsodos’s hands wouldn’t have been Sephiroth’s first choice. The war had already dragged on far too long for President Shinra’s liking, and as a result he’d ordered the creation of more SOLDIERs. Sephiroth was the only one the President trusted with the recruitment and training process. As if throwing more bodies at Wutai would guarantee victory.

He heard footsteps in the hall outside his office, and recognized their cadence. 

“Come in, Lieutenant Fair,” Sephiroth called, before the other man had a chance to knock. “Well?”

Zack Fair had been charged with assisting Sephiroth with the more tedious aspects of SOLDIER recruitment: namely, scouring infantry files for possible candidates.

“I did find one,” Zack said, “I totally missed him at first. Assumed he was a new recruit but he’s not.”

Sephiroth looked at him.

“I wouldn’t describe him as a, uh, typical candidate? He’s, well, kind of a runt, honestly. Little wiry guy. Made me think he was fresh off the train from bumfuck nowhere, which it turns out he was at one time. I mean, a guy like this would have to be really sick of life to join the army, knowing he’d get his ass kicked day in and day out, and like—“

“Lieutenant.”

“Right.” Zack straightened up. “So, like I was saying, came in on a train three years ago when he was 16, basically the second he met the minimum age requirement. And he’s been a cadet ever since.”

“You’re telling me he’s been a cadet for three years?” Sephiroth arched a brow. “No advancement?”

“Nope. That’s why I missed him.”

Sephiroth paused to consider this. He sighed and shook his head, sending a ripple through his long hair. “We’re in worse shape than I thought then, if this is all we can scrape together.”

Zack pressed on. “I know how it looks. SOLDIER-caliber guys aren’t exactly a dime a dozen, you know? But check it out.” He dropped a file on Sephiroth’s desk. “Remember how the last batch looked great on paper but washed out after their first round of mako transfusions?”

Sephiroth did, unfortunately, remember. Three promising recruits, each of whom outstripped their peers physically and progressed through the normal infantry ranks at impressive speed. Instead of three SOLDIERs, Sephiroth had ended up with three sickly husks. Even after the recommended acclimation period had passed, their bodies never recovered. Sephiroth was left with no choice but to discharge them. The Shinra army couldn’t afford that kind of waste. Sephiroth gave a resigned sighed and thumbed open the file.

_Strife, Cloud._

_Birthplace: Nibelheim_

Zack was right: another country boy. No surprise there, given that the most promising job prospect Nibelheim offered was the dangerous, underpaid work of a mako reactor technician. Zack also hadn’t been exaggerating about the cadet’s size.

_Height: 170cm_

_Weight: 62kg_

There were SOLDIER training weapons larger than this cadet. And that wasn’t even the most alarming piece of information in the file, Sephiroth discovered. He blinked a couple of times when he flipped the page and saw the impressive list of demerits Cloud Strife had received. Fighting with other cadets. Insubordination. Defiance toward commanding officers. Fighting with a commanding officer. An equally impressive number of unit transfers, as it seemed no one wanted to deal with the aptly named Cloud Strife.

The file also contained medical records. Cloud Strife was in excellent health, but had been sent to the medics more than a few times after scraps with his peers. Numerous scrapes and bruises, a few black eyes— the worst of it was a broken nose. Sephiroth flipped the page, and was surprised to see other cadets’ medical records in the file as well, documenting more serious injuries. Broken arms and kneecaps, cracked ribs, a crushed groin, stitches as a result of being bitten. He read on; all were injuries incurred from fighting with Cloud Strife.

Cloud clearly had aggression issues and a problem with authority. He was a troublemaker, he fought dirty, and if the medical records were any indication, he won more often than not.

Sephiroth looked up and folded his hands on his desk. “Lieutenant Fair. Bring me Cloud Strife.”

* * *

“Ohh, am I in trouble?” Cloud sneered at Zack, after the SOLDIER Lieutenant had pulled him from his afternoon drills.

“Nope,” Zack replied cheerfully. He swiped a keycard on the door of an elevator Cloud had never used before. “But mind your manners, will you? I personally don’t care if you’re mouthy, but the General might.”

“The General? You mean Hewley? What...?” Cloud got yelled at on a regular basis by middle-ranking officers— usually before they signed off on yet another unit transfer for him— but a General? This uncharted territory rattled him.

Zack grinned as he swiped his keycard again, then jabbed the button for the highest floor of the Shinra tower. “Nope!”

There was only one other General in the Shinra ranks, the one in charge of SOLDIER and the other special ops divisions. Cloud felt his insides liquefy. His pulse ratcheted up to a frantic tempo and he swallowed hard.

“You look like you’re about to shit your pants, kid. Breathe,” Zack said, “I don’t have time to take you back to the barracks for a change of undies.”

“Fuck off,” Cloud retorted, only to cringe at the sound of his voice cracking. He didn’t trust himself to speak further, and didn’t resist when Zack placed a hand on his shoulder to steer him through the roomy, well-lit hallways that awaited them on the top floor. They stopped in front of an unmarked door. Zack knocked but didn’t wait for a response before entering.

The room was an office, spacious but plain and utilitarian. Behind a large desk, dotted with neatly organized documents, stood Sephiroth.

Zack saluted. Cloud didn’t. Zack kicked him in the shin, but it barely registered. Cloud had seen images of Sephiroth numerous times before: the posters, the TV spots, the print ads. Shinra propaganda abounded, and Sephiroth’s face was plastered on all of it. It was easy to see why. His face was inhumanly beautiful, the sort of face that made Cloud’s chest ache and his pants tight. Cloud had, until now, liked to think he was over his celebrity crush. There was no place for that kind of mooning in the barracks, and in the three years since Cloud had enlisted he’d never actually seen Sephiroth in person. Occasionally he’d wondered if Sephiroth was even real. Surely no person on the planet could really look like that.

Sephiroth was very real. He actually looked like that. And fuck, he was tall.

“Get a grip, cadet,” Zack muttered through his teeth.

It occurred to Cloud that he was staring. Gawking, even. His face felt hot and he was suddenly, weirdly aware of the fact that he was covered in dried sweat and dirt from training. Sephiroth observed him with a neutral expression, but the intensity of his eyes made Cloud squirm, as if Sephiroth could see the blood pounding through his veins. Cloud refused to avert his eyes, though. If this was yet another dressing-down for “misconduct”, at least he’d have a pretty face to look at.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Fair. You’re dismissed,” Sephiroth said. When he spoke, the hairs on the back of Cloud’s neck stood on end, as if a piece of velvet brushed over his skin. Sephiroth seemed to have won every possible genetic lottery.

“Cadet Strife. Sit,” Sephiroth said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk. Cloud mutely obeyed, still not trusting his voice. He could see a file open on Sephiroth’s desk. His file, from the look of it. There was no mistaking that list of demerits. But Sephiroth wasn’t shouting. He didn’t even appear angry at all. Cloud’s brain swam with questions— chief among them _what exactly the hell is going on here?_ — but the idea of speaking to Sephiroth in such a manner felt... sacrosanct, or something. So he waited in silence as Sephiroth scanned over the page.

“You frequently get into fights with your fellow cadets,” Sephiroth stated mildly. Cloud tried not to sigh. Here it would inevitably come.

Sephiroth stopped there, however, and looked at Cloud.

“I, uh. Don’t start them. Sir,” Cloud replied. He didn’t know why the honorific slipped out— he hated those. Sephiroth wasn’t even in his chain of command.

“But you finish them?” Sephiroth said, arching a silver brow.

“I guess you could say that,” Cloud said.

“I see,” Sephiroth continued. The tiniest hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips. “I also have the medical record of the cadets you’ve fought.”

“Oh,” Cloud said. He felt a buzz of pride even as he inwardly cursed himself for sounding so stupid.

“Your opponents have all been larger and stronger than you,” Sephiroth said.

“Yeah, bunch of shit-stirring bastards,” Cloud mumbled.

“Why, then?” Sephiroth asked. He still wasn’t angry. In fact, he looked earnestly interested.

This conversation had not gone anywhere near the direction Cloud had expected. The strangeness of it all, the fact that he was having a conversation with Sephiroth, left him feeling light-headed.

“Well. I can’t just lay there and let them kick my ass,” Cloud said.

“And you don’t report harassment to your commanding officers?”

A loud scoff burst out of Cloud before he could stop himself. “Oh, yeah, because they _definitely_ give a shit.”

After the accident with Tifa, Cloud had learned better than to count on protection from authority figures. The first few times he got beat up at school, he’d make the mistake of reporting it to his teachers. All that had gotten him was a scolding for “causing trouble” and an even harsher beating the next day. What did put a stop to harassment, Cloud discovered, was a fist to the bully’s face.

“Mmm. Problems with authority,” Sephiroth said, eyes skimming over file again.

“No offense, sir, but you can’t seriously expect anyone else to look out for you. Especially higher-ups. They don’t give a shit about people, just ‘keeping order’”, Cloud said, air quotes and all.

When Sephiroth didn’t respond right away, Cloud feared he’d blundered headlong into the retribution he’d been anticipating from the start. A shadow crossed Sephiroth’s well-trained expression of neutrality. He looked pensive, almost sullen. But it was gone a second later, and Cloud wondered if it had been a trick of the light.

“Why did you enlist, Cadet?” Sephiroth said. Cloud blinked at the abrupt change of subject.

There was no way Cloud was answering with the whole truth. _Because I had a huge crush on you when I was younger and maybe still do and would have done anything to see your face and meet you. Shinra’s PR and marketing department really earns their salaries!_ Cloud’s face heated up just thinking about it.

“The steady paycheck,” he replied, which was also true. “Not for myself, that is. I send pretty much all of it back home.”

“You don’t keep any for yourself?” Sephiroth said.

“Not really,” Cloud replied. He had no idea where this was going, but it was sort of relaxing to have an actual conversation with someone who wasn’t shouting at him, lecturing him, or provoking him. And besides, the more he talked the more he got to look at Sephiroth. “Not like I have much to spend it on. My mother needs it more than I do.”

“Your mother,” Sephiroth repeated, barely above a whisper. His eyes unfocused, no longer fixed on Cloud but on the space behind him. A slide show of emotions flitted across Sephiroth’s face, too fast for Cloud to pinpoint any of them, before settling back into stoicism. Cloud shifted in his seat, getting the distinct impression he’d made things awkward somehow.

He was starting to wonder whether he should apologize, or leave, or keep stewing in the thick silence, when Sephiroth blurted out, “How would you like to fight me, Cloud?”

Cloud opened his mouth, then shut it again, as he struggled to process what he’d just heard. His name, not just his rank and surname, on Sephiroth’s lips, each letter wrapped in velvet. He wished he could rewind time to watch Sephiroth’s mouth form the sounds again.

But Sephiroth had asked him a question. Cloud was beet red, taking far too long to provide a simple “yes” or “no”, and more confused than ever about why he was here. There was no reason he could conceive of that Sephiroth would want to fight him. Cloud was confident in his ability to fend off bullies in the training yard, he wasn’t going to delude himself about his chances against Sephiroth.

“Yes, sir!” Cloud finally said, and flushed all over again at the enthusiastic bounce in his voice.

Sephiroth gave a curt nod and abruptly rose from his chair. He gestured for Cloud to follow as he headed for the door. All of his movements were crisp and precise. He was almost in the hallway before Cloud came back down to earth and scrambled after him, nearly breaking into a jog to match Sephiroth’s long strides. They didn’t have far to go; a short distance down the hallway and Sephiroth was guiding Cloud into a more familiar-looking room. Thin mats on the floor, racks of wooden training weapons lining the walls. It looked just like the sparring rooms he’d trained in countless times as an infantryman, but a lot cleaner.

“Your choice,” Sephiroth said, gesturing to weapons. He was already holding a simple one-handed sword. Cloud tried not to feel an absurd twinge of disappoint that Sephiroth was not using his real sword. Sephiroth was, by any measure, the greatest swordsman in history and had invented his own unique forms and fighting style. What Cloud wouldn’t give to see it up close and personal. But the room was too small for that, of course, and Cloud knew he ought to be grateful that Sephiroth was making even a token gesture to level the playing field.

Cloud chose a heavier two-handed sword. He’d been lectured more than a few times about how this wasn’t the “optimal” weapon for him, given his small stature, but Cloud didn’t care. He didn’t have the patience for dancing around his opponent. He preferred a direct, brutal approach.

Sephiroth said nothing about Cloud’s choice of weapon. His expression was inscrutable as always, though his eyes flickered from Cloud’s grip on the hilt to the wide placement of his feet, betraying his curiosity. Other than that he was still, poised in a stance so graceful that he almost appeared to be floating. Sephiroth was waiting, Cloud realized. For him. He tightened his clammy grip on the hilt. There was no question that Sephiroth would hurt him— the only question was how badly.

Cloud charged. One moment he hefted his sword to swing, and in the next his face slammed into the floor. All he felt was shock. Sephiroth had to have moved, but Cloud hadn’t even seen it. Cloud sat up, dazed, as pain and humiliation began to set in. If this was some kind of test, he didn’t see any way to pass. But he had to try. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than laying down and quitting in front of Sephiroth. So he hauled himself back to his feet, wiped the back of his hand across his face, and ignored the smear of red on his skin.

“Again,” Sephiroth said. That was just enough warning for Cloud to lift his sword in time to crack against Sephiroth’s. The impact made his hands tingle. He had a split second to be pleased with himself before Sephiroth twisted his grip and pushed, dislodging the sword from Cloud’s hands and sending him sprawling onto his back all in one smooth motion. Now Cloud was getting annoyed. He had no intention of spending the afternoon being batted around like a cat toy.

Cloud’s attempt to right himself was aborted by a heavy boot thudding onto the center of his chest. Sephiroth wasn’t putting his full weight on Cloud— not yet, at least— but was slowly, steadily increasing the pressure. Cloud glared up, teeth bared, only to find Sephiroth’s gaze pinning him as effectively as his boot. The mako in Sephiroth’s eyes was seething, and the slit pupils were noticeably rounder. Adrenaline sang through Cloud’s system, leaving him electrified in a way that had nothing to do with fear or exertion. A traitorous part of him very much enjoyed the view, the way Sephiroth towered over him like this, being at Sephiroth’s mercy. But there was no way in hell he was going to give in to it.

With his head bowed to stare at Cloud, Sephiroth’s hair fell forward in silky sheets. And that was it. Cloud begin thrashing— aimlessly, at first, to try and avoid telegraphing his next move. There was no way he could sit up, but he could manage to twist himself around to the side, and from that position he lunged. He reached up as high as he could, twisted double handfuls of Sephiroth’s hair around his fists, and pulled with all his strength.

Cloud had a flash of triumph as the inexorable pressure on his chest finally let up, and Sephiroth appeared off balance. The triumph evaporated, however, when Cloud felt a powerful arm snake around his neck. Sephiroth followed the movement down and dropped directly on top of him. Sephiroth was heavy, all muscle, and Cloud may as well have been pinned under a slab of concrete. Now the chokehold around his neck was tightening, and all Cloud had to show for his efforts was impossibly soft hair tangled in his fingers. Which was absolutely not what he should have been thinking about as he wheezed for air. Oxygen was in short supply, but the smell of warm leather and Sephiroth’s hair was everywhere. Cloud’s head felt fuzzy and swimmy as he continued his squirming. Escape was impossible, but going still felt like some kind of surrender, and Sephiroth’s body was so warm and firm. Perhaps Sephiroth was moving against him also, but it was too difficult to tell with the room spinning and dark spots flickering across his vision.

Then, as the darkness threatened to close in entirely, everything stopped. The pressure around his neck vanished. Sephiroth’s weight was gone. Cloud sucked in ragged gasps of air while feeling strangely bereft. A strong grip on the back of his uniform hauled him to his feet, but didn’t let go.

“That will be all,” Sephiroth declared.

“All— what—?” Cloud attempted to speak, but his voice came out a broken rasp after the choking he’d received. “What’s this about, sir?”

“SOLDIER,” Sephiroth replied cryptically.

“What—“ Cloud began again, but this time dissolved into a coughing fit.

“You’re dismissed, Cloud,” Sephiroth said, and let go of him. “Lieutenant Fair will be waiting for you at the elevator just down the hall.”

Something about that dismissive tone sparked a new surge of irritation in Cloud. Sephiroth had called him up here for gods-only-knew what reason, carried on a rather pleasant but odd conversation with him, nearly choked him out, and then offered only the barest hint of explanation for the whole thing. After all that, Cloud didn’t appreciate being callously sent away and, likely, forgotten. _Hey, sir, what the fuck?_ and _How about a rematch?_ didn’t really feel like appropriate questions to ask, as much as Cloud wished. So he did the next best thing: as he turned to leave, he snuck a hand back into Sephiroth’s hair and yanked. That earned him an audible gasp from Sephiroth, more from surprise than pain. Cloud sprinted from the room fearing, or maybe hoping, that Sephiroth would pursue him.

Once Cloud was bundled off to the barracks with the rest of the cadets, Zack rejoined Sephiroth in his office.

“How long did he last?” Zack said, flopping down in the same chair Cloud had occupied earlier.

Sephiroth shrugged and repeatedly brushed his fingers through a specific section of hair. “Minutes. No different from any of the others. But he wasn’t afraid. He didn’t give up. And he’s... clever.”

“Didn’t look like you roughed him up too badly,” Zack said.

“Not this time,” Sephiroth replied. Zack blinked in surprise at the implication that there would be a next time. Sephiroth wasn’t one to second guess himself or have trouble making up his mind. Candidates either were SOLDIER material, or they were not.

That, coupled with a look of actual amusement on Sephiroth’s face, had Zack itching with curiosity. He cleared his throat and tried to get answers without sounding nosy. “Further evaluation is required for this candidate?”

“I’ll observe him during his drills tomorrow,” Sephiroth continued as if Zack hadn’t spoken, “Get me a copy of his schedule.”

“Uh, right away, sir,” Zack replied. Sephiroth wasn’t a talkative person on his best days. His words were carefully chosen and landed as hard as his blows. It wasn’t like him to outright avoid a question.

“Lieutenant?” Sephiroth’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You’re dismissed.”

* * *

The cadets’ barracks and training grounds were a short distance outside Midgar. The city itself didn’t have a square centimeter to spare for the sprawl of a military training compound. Various Shinra executives had argued for years about moving the whole operation into the slums for cost savings, but the recruitment benefits of keeping it outside ultimately won out. It made slum-born kids easy targets: _join the army, see the sky!_

Thankfully there were private roads for military use only, so Sephiroth didn’t have to navigate the onerous task of appearing in public to get there. All the same, he kept as low a profile as possible for someone as conspicuous as himself. The whole idea was to observe Cloud’s natural behavior, and awareness of Sephiroth’s presence would result in an uproar among the cadets. There was an unused office space on the second floor of the squat officers’ building overlooking the training yards, its windows furnished with mirrored glass. He stood in front of a window, arms crossed, and watched a line of bedraggled-looking cadets jog out of the barracks. They had their helmets on but it didn’t take long for Sephiroth to spot his target. The cadet at the end of the line was smaller than the others, and even his slightly-too-big helmet couldn’t stop a few errant bursts of sunshine gold hair from peeking out against his neck.

Sephiroth watched impassively as the drill sergeant put the cadets through their paces. Cloud wasn’t the strongest or fastest by a long shot. But he kept up, and looked determined to not be the worst either. When they ran laps with heavy packs strapped to their backs, Cloud brought up the rear. But his pace was steady, he never slowed, and lap by lap he eked his way toward the front of the group.

Until he suddenly stopped and dumped his pack on the ground. Sephiroth leaned forward, wondering if Cloud had injured himself. Or perhaps the weight of the pack had become too much for him to bear— though given what he knew of Cloud, Sephiroth highly doubted that was the case. Neither scenario appeared to be true, however, as Cloud carefully knelt in the dirt. With his mako-enhanced vision, Sephiroth could see that Cloud stopped next to small snake that had meandered onto the grounds and was now in danger of being crushed underfoot. The drill sergeant was already yelling, but Cloud ignored him. He scooped the little creature up as carefully as possible, carried it a short distance to the side, then knelt again to release it to safety.

By then the drill sergeant had jogged over to Cloud, screaming all the while. Cloud didn’t even bother to stand— he simply extended his body into a plank and began doing push-ups as ordered. The other cadets ignored the scene and continued their run. Except for one, who loomed over Cloud saying something to him that even Sephiroth’s enhanced hearing couldn’t catch through the walls and distance. The words must have been incendiary, because Cloud promptly flipped over and snapped a leg out, driving the heel of his boot into the other cadet’s groin. When he doubled over, Cloud surged upwards to crack the top of his helmet into the cadet’s face. The drill sergeant lunged forward to grab Cloud around the waist and drag him off.

Sephiroth startled when he felt cold glass against his forehand— he hadn’t realized he’d been leaning further and further forward. He felt inexplicably annoyed that the drill sergeant had interfered. The drill sergeant had simply done what was necessary to maintain discipline and order, and Sephiroth would have done the same thing if two of his men were fighting. But he couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened next. Would Cloud have continued the assault? Would the other cadet have rallied and fought back, perhaps throwing Cloud to the ground? That thought was weirdly unpleasant to Sephiroth. He’d pinned Cloud to the floor not 24 hours earlier and couldn’t stop thinking about it. The idea of someone else doing the same thing made his left hand twitch. He tossed his head to ruffle his bangs out of his face. No matter. This whole situation added up to nothing more than another demerit in Cloud’s file— which, frankly, he deserved for slacking off and fighting. As a medic scrambled onto the grounds to assist the injured cadet, Sephiroth pulled out his phone. He watched Cloud, who was totally unrepentant in his posture, march back to the barracks, where he’d most likely spend the rest of the day scrubbing latrines.

When Zack picked up, all Sephiroth had to say was, ”I’ve observed him. Further evaluation is required.”

“Sir?” Zack’s confusion was apparent in his voice.

Sephiroth didn’t have any explanation. Cloud was a promising candidate for SOLDIER. It would be in the best interests of Shinra for Cloud to start SOLDIER pre-training and prep for mako transfusions as soon as possible. But if Cloud joined SOLDIER, then he would be... potentially seriously injured if his body rejected the transfusions? Deployed to the front lines of Wutai fresh out of the tank? In Sephiroth’s direct chain of command, thereby subject to much stricter rules about how they were allowed to interact?

“Sir? Are you still there?” Zack repeated.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Sephiroth said, “Bring Cadet Strife to my office tomorrow morning.”

* * *

This time around, Cloud had the presence of mind to ask Zack what was going on. Cloud’s fellow cadets had jeered him when they saw him being led away by a high-ranked officer, assuming he was going to be subject to even harsher discipline. But after last time, Cloud wasn’t so sure. The only explanation Zack offered was that Cloud was being screened for progression into the SOLDIER program. That sounded like bullshit— Cloud knew he wasn’t exactly top of his class— but for once he wasn’t going to question a superior officer. Not when that officer was hand-delivering him to Sephiroth for the second time. He hadn’t been able to get the image of Sephiroth’s face— somehow even more beautiful in person— or the sound of Sephiroth’s voice out of his head. And if Sephiroth wanted to get physical with him again? Cloud certainly wouldn’t object to that either. He touched neck, where a collar of bruises from Sephiroth’s chokehold lay hidden under his uniform.

Seated across the desk from Sephiroth, Cloud hoped his staring could at least pass for attentiveness this time. Sephiroth studied him with equal intensity, perfectly still.

“Are you alright?” Sephiroth blurted. Not even a greeting, and no small talk, unless this was Sephiroth’s attempt at it. Not that Cloud minded. He’d never given much thought to performative social niceties.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? Sir,” Cloud said

“Yesterday,” Sephiroth replied. Of course Sephiroth knew about his latest “incident”. Cloud didn’t know why he was surprised.

“Uh. Yeah. I’m fine. The other guy didn’t even hit me before the sergeant broke it up,” Cloud said.

“You were fast and efficient,” Sephiroth said, with another one of his tiny lip quirks, a slight narrowing of his eyes. He was pleased, Cloud realized, and it felt like his skin was on fire and his heart was exploding at the same time. Sephiroth had also been watching him, apparently, and just _why, what, how—_

Before Cloud could react, Sephiroth plowed on with his blunt, disjointed line of questioning. “Why did you help the snake?”

Sephiroth had definitely been watching. Cloud swallowed hard. “It would’ve got stepped on if I left it. Sir.”

“Snakes can be dangerous. There are several venomous species in this area,” Sephiroth said.

“Yeah I’m aware of that,” Cloud crossed his arms over his chest, unable to stop the defensiveness from creeping into his voice. This was starting to sound suspiciously like a lecture. “But that doesn’t mean it deserved to get trampled to death. _Sir_.”

There it was again: a slurry of emotions churned up beneath Sephiroth’s chilly facade, their presence undeniable but impossible to name, like shadows in deep water. Cloud probably should have been afraid of what lurked beneath in those depths. He probably should have been afraid of a lot of things in his life: the Nibel mountains, the boys at school, the bigger cadets in his squad. He never had known when to quit. Cloud leaned over the desk, studying, as if he could decipher Sephiroth by squinting hard enough.

“What is your mother like?” Sephiroth said, unruffled by Cloud’s snippy response.

Not that any of his interactions with Sephiroth so far had been mundane, but this was veering way off course. Cloud couldn’t think of a single reason why that question— any of these questions, for that matter— were pertinent to SOLDIER. But Sephiroth had that earnest look on his face again, his eyes were just a little bit wide, his head was tilted ever so slightly to one side. _Gods_. Cloud would tell him anything.

“She’s, uh, really great,” Cloud began. He loved his mother, but he’d never really thought about it before either; he’d never been asked. “She’s... reliable. Always been there for me. The only person who has. Didn’t matter what anybody else said. And she works hard. I know she sacrificed a lot for me. To keep food on the table and everything.”

Sephiroth looked downright enraptured, so Cloud continued. “And she’s kinda funny sometimes? Before I left town she was on this weird kick about me finding someone older in the city to ‘take care of me’. It pissed me off at the time, I can take care of myself, you know? But looking back on it, she was just worried. That’s just how moms are. You’re always a baby to them.”

There was a creaking sound; it took Cloud a minute to notice it was the leather of Sephiroth’s gloves as his hands balled into fists. Sephiroth turned his head to the side so the fall of his hair hid his face from view. The angular lines of his body sang with tension. Questions bubbled up on Cloud’s lips— there was clearly history here, a deep well— but he reined them in. Whatever was happening, between Sephiroth and himself, felt so fragile. The last thing Cloud wanted to do it was shatter it with clumsy words. He’d never been good at words. Instead he extended his hand toward Sephiroth, slowly, fingers outspread, like he would with a frightened animal. The instant his fingertips made contact with one supple glove, Sephiroth snapped his head back to Cloud in alarm. It was like the curtains of a stage play being pulled back too early: there was the behind-the-scenes mess all over Sephiroth’s face, eyes wide and brow furrowed in an expression of exquisite vulnerability. Cloud knew he was overstepping, knew there was a very real chance of Sephiroth snapping his wrist like a twig, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he’d finally gotten a glimpse of the person inside the fortress. Cloud pressed his luck and rested his hand on the back of Sephiroth’s much larger one. They were both frozen, the moment perfectly crystallized— until Sephiroth sat up sharply at attention, head cocked to one side, like he’d been startled by some faraway sound that Cloud couldn’t hear.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said with a rasp in his voice, “Cadet Strife. Dismissed.”

“Sir—“ Cloud began, head spinning. He didn’t want to move his hand. He didn’t want to leave but was afraid of what would happen if he stayed. “Sephiroth. Can we— Can I—“

“Dismissed,” Sephiroth repeated. Cloud was crestfallen when Sephiroth’s face resettled into an emotionless mask. “However, further evaluation is required.”

Cloud nodded mutely, still reeling from the shift in Sephiroth’s demeanor, and reluctantly withdrew his hand.

Once Cloud was on his way back to the elevator, he saw two men approaching Sephiroth’s office. Shinra higher-ups, from the look of them. One was stocky and wore an ugly yet expensive-looking green suit, while the other had long dark hair and wore a lab coat. They spoke in hushed but angry tones. Cloud couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Sephiroth obviously had. He looked back over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the man in the lab coat pounding on Sephiroth’s door. It was none of Cloud’s business, and miles above both his pay grade and security clearance. But when he thought about Sephiroth’s wide, startled eyes, he wanted to make it his business— as if he could do anything at all to protect the most powerful man in the world from whatever demons haunted him.

Cloud tried not to read too much into Sephiroth’s words. Hope had never gotten him anywhere in life. But he couldn’t stop his heart from kicking up a few more notches: _further evaluation is required._


End file.
